Take your time
by AndersDanJij
Summary: Lovino Vargas was used to living in the shadows, to not being special nor noticed. When he moves to another orphanage, he finds out however that not every person is the same. He's thrown into a group in which everyone has his or hers own special abilities and everyone's loved. And on top of that, his Spanish roommate seems to have taken quite a liking for him. Spamano
1. Prologue

**Take your time**

_**By ~AndersDanJij**_

_Prologue_

Lovino Vargas wouldn't consider himself a lucky person. Hell, he had no single reason to.

His throat felt dry and his skin felt hot, a thin layer of sweat covering his olive coloured skin as he took in the building in front of him. _Sun Garden_, it read. In Lovino's eyes there couldn't be a more ironic name for a place like this. A place as hellish and terrible as a fucking _orphanage_ didn't deserve a happy and cheerful name like that. It should be forbidden, even.

Lovino was around six when he and his newly born baby brother became orphans. Their parents died in a car crash and their asshole of a grandfather had passed only a month earlier. They didn't have any family – or at least, not family that wanted anything to do with them – and they were left in the cruel hands of fate instead. His little brother had barely turned the age of one by that time, and only weeks after they moved into an orphanage who did not have such an ironic and cruel name as fucking _Sun Garden_ he got adopted by a loving family.

Needless to say, he never visited Lovino again.

But why would he? Who in this whole damned screwed-up world gave a fuck about the oldest of the Vargas brothers? The one who was less cute, less talented, less friendly, less fun to hang out with, who could never do anything right and who was just downright moody and mean and unpleasant. The oldest brother who was never good enough, no matter what he did.

His amber eyes – unique in their colour but always called ugly when compared to his baby brother's – wandered over the building, taking in its slightly peeling off grey paint, the old swing set, left abandoned at this evening hour, with its swings screeching as they were pushed forward slightly by the cool breeze. Soft music could be heard from one of the open windows, happy and cheerful and scolding talking from another. The big double doors looked almost welcoming with their feisty decorations and colourful crayon drawings created by still creative and not yet screwed-up children.

Lovino stared at everything for a long time, wondering if this really was where he was supposed to be. This simply couldn't be it. It was hardly comparable to the orphanage he came from, and it looked almost human and welcoming with its colours and sounds and curtains and drawings.

There was a reason behind him being here. He, Lovino Vargas, was known as quite the troublemaker. After he realized he was never going to be enough, never going to be able to step out of his little brother's shadow, he had decided he shouldn't even try anymore and started to do things he wasn't supposed to do. But what did it matter anyway? It was now nine years ago when they became orphans, robbed from their loving parents on shameful young ages, left in a world they knew nothing of with nothing and no one to take care of them, and Lovino still hadn't managed to get away from his brother's ever-present shadow. While flawless little Feliciano had been adopted and he hadn't been, no one had ever considered him equal, had ever considered him as a normal person who had his strengths and flaws, but they looked down upon him as the 'prototype' instead.

The mistake. The sacrifice needed to create an angel like Feliciano.

Don't get him wrong, he loved his innocent, oblivious little brother. He just wished his life hadn't turned out like it had, and truly, Feliciano was the cause of many miserable turns of events in his life. But Lovino was a strong person – at least, he liked to think he was a strong person – and he could live with it.

But, back to the point, Lovino was kicked out of his former orphanage. After the woman who took care of all the children had decided he couldn't be saved and was screwed forever, doomed to live on the streets and die a painful and young death, he'd been reinstated to this so called _Sun Garden_.

He inhaled deeply, adjusting the strap of his worn-out bag carrying all his possessions, and tried to ready himself for what was to come. When he heard the double doors creak open, he cursed under his breath. He wasn't ready yet. He needed more time to get his face into the moody mask he always wore, get his eyes to steel themselves and not give away his true feelings so easily like the traitors always did.

But, he wasn't a lucky person.

And why would his luck start now?

"Good evening," the voice of a woman cut through the silence of the early evening, and Lovino caught the gaze of a warm-looking woman who probably was somewhere around her thirties. "Can I help you?"

Her curly chestnut hair was tied into a ponytail, and her green eyes were a shade he'd never seen by humans before. It was a warm green, like that of the endless grass fields in the spring, decorated with light golden flecks like patches of sunlight lighting up random places of this grass field, making it look almost heavenly in the process. She looked warm, open, friendly, and motherly despite her rather young age.

"Yes," Lovino replied, looking rather awkward. He hadn't expected to find someone like her at a place like this. She was nothing like the woman who had taken care of him before, and she kind of ruined his picture of orphanage, just like the building behind her did. It made Lovino even more doubtful of the place, of the address he'd gotten and the place he'd been dropped at a few hours before. "My name is Lovino Vargas and I-"

"Oh! You're the new kid! I'm so glad you found the place, hun! You're quite late though," the woman rambled as she walked over to him, smacked a kiss on his cheek and grabbed his arm to pull him into the building that was his new home for the following three years. "My name is Elizaveta," she explained, before going on a rant about rules and whatnot. Lovino lost interest in the rambling as he was pulled further through the hallway, his eyes scanning the cream coloured walls decorated with even more horrible drawn crayon drawings, the name of the creators written in the downright corners in fancy handwriting.

The ceilings were high and decorated with expensive looking chandeliers, casting their yellowish light through the hallway as they walked past a grand staircase and through another pair of double doors.

Lovino scowled as he heard laughing and the sound of a gaming console, as he heard giggling and screaming and kids having fun on a way he couldn't remember to have ever experienced.

The walls turned a warmer colour, an almost beige-like shade and the crayon drawings were replaced by paintings that weren't spectacular or eye-catching, but impressive for the age of the painters nonetheless. It reminded Lovino of the amazingly beautiful paintings his little brother made no matter how young he was. He'd only seen a few, so few even that he could count the number on two fingers, but he did know his brother was highly talented, a prodigy even.

The thoughts about Feliciano left a sour taste in his mouth, and Lovino's scowl deepened even more as he thought about those terrible foster parents who did their utter bests to keep the two brothers away from each other.

He hated it here already.

The people were too cheerful. The house was too colourful. Everyone was too energetic, acting like their whole lives hadn't crumbled in front of their eyes and living in an orphanage was the most normal thing in the world.

Like they were ok with spending their whole childhood in a god-forsaken place like this.

With having no family.

Lovino Vargas wouldn't consider himself a lucky person.

He simply had no reason to.


	2. Chapter 1: Hugs equal pain

**Take your time**

_**By ~AndersDanJij**_

_Chapter one: Hugs equal pain_

They neared the double doors leading to what presumably was the living room far too quickly for Lovino's liking, but he said nothing. One of the reasons was because he didn't want to seem like a coward or psychopath or something, the second reason was because you couldn't just walk up to someone and ask them if you could pause for a while because you weren't ready yet, and yet an other reason was the fact that if he didn't go now he would never have enough courage to do it.

He was an Italian, after all.

A pureblood, even.

And if there were things Italians were good at, it were retreating, hiding and fleeing. And Lovino was, despite his potty mouth and his rude behaviour, no exception.

Lovino was pretty sure he smelt something, something delicious, and the scent just seemed to grow stronger and stronger and even more delicious as they approached the next set of double doors.

The woman in front of him sighed in appreciation, inhaling as much of the wonderful scent as she could. "Toni baked something for you," she announced cheerfully, like it was obvious who this 'Toni' guy was.

Lovino decided not to ask; he wasn't really that nosy of a person and he simply wasn't interested at the moment. No, his churning and growling stomach, howling like a dog that hadn't been fed in days – one day, to be exact – confiscated all his concentration at the moment. He hadn't been able to eat anything the evening prior, nor this morning or afternoon. The main reason was the fact that he'd been nervous, terribly so, more than he liked to admit.

He didn't even know why he was nervous. He was pretty sure things couldn't take a turn for the worse, although saying this out loud would be nothing but a request to whatever god there was up there to unleash his wrath once more and pull down this poor Italian even further in a pool of misery, laughing at him and telling him that _yes_, it could be worse. And why would he even be bothered by what the others thought about him? He didn't need anyone.

Especially not kids who had experienced the same as he had, but still managed to be cheerful and laugh out loud. Oh, how he despised the people behind these doors already.

Elizaveta stretched her hand out and was about to push the door open when she glanced at Lovino from over her shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. The look in her warm green eyes was like that of a mother's, telling him everything was going to be all right and she would be there to offer a shoulder to cry on and a bunch of hugs and cookies if it didn't.

Lovino didn't really know what to think of this woman. He'd never quite met someone like her before, and that didn't make it any better.

Despite Lovino's reluctance to admit this tiny little fact, he was socially awkward. It was a fact; he didn't know what to do around people or how to judge them or their behaviours, and decided to play it safe instead; everyone was as much as an asshole or bastard in his eyes as any other individual.

It wasn't a mind-set that attracted lots of people or gave you many friends, but it was one of the few things Lovino was comfortable with, and had grown used to over the years.

The door was pushed open, and immediately everything and everyone fell silent. Gaming consoles were turned off or paused, volumes were muted and everyone stopped their talking, no matter whether they were just finished or mid-sentence.

It only became worse when Lovino stepped into the room, his amber eyes taking in every face hastily.

And there were a lot of faces. Belonging to a lot of bodies. Hiding lots of personalities. Forming lots of persons, individuals, he was unlikely to befriend.

And there were so _many_.

Most of them were younger than he was, and only a handful of kids looked around his age or older than him, including the two guys sitting on the sofa. They'd made themselves comfortable, it seemed.

One of them was… well, not quite like anyone Lovino had seen before – which made him wonder if he'd been dumped at some kind of hospital for the outcasts or something, because this guy couldn't have many friends. His white hair, pale skin and blood red eyes turned him into a rather creepy figure, and the smirk on his face certainly didn't help matters.

Next to him sat another guy, who could very well have been the albino's counterpart. With his warm smile, slightly curly, messy brown hair and sparkling green eyes – Lovino swore they were sparkling. You know, like the eyes of cartoon characters do – he looked inviting and friendly.

Lovino decided he despised this guy too.

He looked too friendly. Too cheerful. Too fucking happy.

Lovino hated it when people looked like that.

The flour on his clothes and the dough in his hair and on his face hinted this guy may very well be that 'Toni' person Elizaveta had been talking about earlier; the creator of this delicious smell that seemed even stronger in this room and made his stomach churn even more.

Lovino disliked him even more now.

"You must be Lovino~" a cheerful voice sounded, and Lovino bit back the urge to correct him and tell him his name shouldn't be pronounced like that. Like it was something special and beautiful, instead of something ugly, something you should be reluctant to pronounce. The tiniest hint of a Spanish accent rang through in the stranger's words, and before Lovino got the time to process what exactly was happening, this guy was standing in front of him.

He was taller than Lovino, the Italian noticed.

He didn't like people who were taller than him.

But, Lovino did his very best to behave and not curse and scream and yell at this man and bring up his knee to plant it between the other's legs or in his stomach, and he did a damn good job if you asked him.

Well, that was until this Spaniard decided it would be a good idea to hug him.

Needless to say, he doubled over just seconds after this stupid decision had been made, clutching his hurting stomach. A stomach that had just had a rendezvous with Lovino's unforgiving elbow.

Served him right.

The bastard.

_**Take your time~**_

"That was mean, Lovi," Antonio whined, climbing the grand stairs leading to the bedrooms while rubbing his stomach like he'd been elbowed just moments prior instead of minutes, perhaps even an hour ago.

"You shouldn't have hugged me!" Lovino replied, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest as he followed Antonio up the stairs, staying a safe distance of several steps behind the other. Just in case.

"I was just saying hi!" the Spaniard protested, throwing Lovino's worn-out bag over his shoulder and ignoring the cry of 'Be careful with that, bastard!' easily.

"Shut up! You're giving me a fucking headache!" A headache might have been a little exaggerated, but he did want to strangle his not-so-dear companion right now. Not only had he embarrassed him in front of people he'd yet to know and would be stuck with for the coming three years, but his cake had been delicious – not that Lovino would ever admit and he'd made sure to put the sourest look on his face when he took a bite, showing Antonio that no he did not like his baking, making the Spaniard pout – and his accent was just…

Lovino didn't quite know how to describe Antonio's accent without sounding like a teenage girl fawning over some stupid celebrity.

"But, like I was saying, we're going to be roommates! Don't worry, I already cleaned the place-" judging by the flour and dough still in his hair and on his face and clothes this guy did not quite grasp the definition of 'cleaning' just yet, so Lovino was doubtful of the cleanliness of the place "-and I made your bed and made space for your clothes and your stuff and I even made some space for you in the bathroom!"

"The bathroom?"

"Yes."

Apparently this oblivious idiot didn't understand that Lovino asked for a clarification of the bathroom. Back in his old orphanage, they'd had six bathrooms; three for the girls and three for the guys. A whole schedule had been set up to make sure everyone got the chance to shower at least once in three days, and he could only hope they did not have anything even close to similar over here.

Lovino didn't bother to enlighten this idiot with what he meant exactly, deciding it would be too much pressure on the other's two brain cells and confuse him even further. Or worse, force him to use those two underused brain cells.

"Our room is in the red corridor," Antonio announced. "I like the colour red! It's the colour of tomatoes and the blushes on the cheeks of cute girls and Spain and…"

Lovino decided he did not want to listen to this rant anymore and concentrated on the way the building was designed instead, trying to remember which colours he had to pass and which way he had to walk to reach the grand staircase.

They passed yellow, green, pink and blue, and Lovino was almost certain this particular red corridor had been built in an other country and they had to walk a few miles more when they rounded a corner and Antonio exclaimed this was the red corridor.

Not that the corridor on its own hadn't been enough of a hint already. The red was so bright it seemed to hurt his eyes, and while the paint on the other walls had been drawn on or decorated with crayon drawings, this corridor was empty. It was just like its name already gave away: red.

No doubt.

"And this is our room!" Antonio said with a grin, throwing open the door that led to their room.

And it was…

Not bad. Not bad at all.

* * *

**Oh wow, you guys! Thank you so much for all the followers and favourites, and I'd like to thank my reviewers even more. It means a lot =)**


	3. Chapter 2: Strike Two

**Take your time**

_**By ~AndersDanJij**_

_Chapter two: Strike two_

Later that evening, Lovino found himself lying under green sheets in a rather comfortable bed. His muscles were tired and he had a minor headache, but despite all that he allowed himself to smile. Only slightly, of course, and anyone who didn't know Lovino wouldn't have considered it a smile at all. But the slight curl of his lips in an upward direction hinted that this might very well be one of the Italian's very rare and nearly extinct smiles.

The only sources of light in the room were the terrible alarm clock a certain Spanish teen owned, the dim light invading the room from below the door and the soft gleam of the moon shining through the thin fabric of the plain curtains covering the window. The alarm clock was the thing that bothered him most, though. It was fire red – red seemed to be Antonio's favourite colour, judging by the tomato red sheets on the other's bed and the red shirts he owned and even the posters of Spanish soccer teams on his wall seemed to have a ridiculous amount of this very same colour – and it radiated a soft red glow.

The time was displayed in green numbers on the display of the alarm clock itself as well as on the white ceiling.

2:34 it read.

At least Lovino could proudly say he'd survived the first day. Evening. Whatever it was.

Lovino listened to the deep and rhythmical breathing coming from the bed several feet next to his, the body the breathing belonged to nothing but a dark blur absorbed by the even darker colours the night casted over the world.

The poor Italian found his new roommate to be very annoying, loud, lively, hyperactive, overexcited, childish, oblivious, cheerful, foolish, happy, careless, idiotic, carefree, obnoxious – although a certain albino Lovino had the displeasure of meeting today certainly beat him on that topic – but mostly just downright _unlikeable._

Antonio hadn't allowed him a single moment of rest after he'd dropped Lovino's bag onto his new bed. He'd grabbed the poor guy by his arm and started to tug and drag him around like a ragdoll to make sure he'd seen every fucking thing and every fucking one before it was time to go to bed. The curfew for the kids around their age was set at a measly ten pm. Antonio had complained openly about how scandalous this was, because the best movies started at half past eight and wouldn't end till around eleven, making them miss all the grand finales.

Honestly, Lovino couldn't care less.

Which wasn't too much of a surprise, really.

But no matter how many times he made clear he didn't want to hear, see or smell it, Antonio kept dragging him everywhere, forcing him to do those things whenever needed. This only made Lovino more and more moody. He wasn't used to being the centre of someone's, anyone's, attention for that long. And he wasn't quite sure whether he liked it or not.

The other kids in the orphanage had seemed normal, and some of them had even offered him a pitiful smile when they saw him being dragged around, his face darkening more and more with every word his Spanish companion said, or rather, yelled to him.

But really, the warm shower he'd taken when Antonio finally let go of him in order to beat his albino friend in a game of PES on the old PlayStation 2 the orphanage owned, and the mattress that did for once not feel like a brick in disguise made up for it. Kind of. Mostly. He supposed.

After that, it had just been a matter of pretending like he was asleep when Antonio finally came in at a record time of 9:59 pm, just before curfew started and Elizaveta would go around hitting all the kids that were still up on their heads with a frying pan – a rather pathetic and mysterious choice of weapon, but lethal when handled by this seemingly not so warm and caring lady. This proved to be harder than Lovino first thought, however, as the gentle brush of soft fingers over his cheek rubbing a few strands of his hair out of his face was almost impossible to ignore.

The corners of his mouth turned down into his trademark frown when he thought about that incomprehensible act of, dare he say, _affection_ the Spaniard had performed towards him.

He was probably just too much of an idiot to realize that those things were just downright not done. Especially not when the one you did this to was asleep. Or pretending to be asleep.

Dammit.

With the soothing thought of Antonio just being his idiotic self and not a rapist of any sorts in mind Lovino turned around in his bed, surprised when the wood did not do so much as creak under the sudden movement, and pulled the sheets over his head. Finally allowing himself to fall asleep after a stressful day.

Only to be awoken at 7 am sharp.

"Loviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

Lovino growled and held the sheets even tighter, hiding underneath them and bathing in the comfortable warmth they provided while doing his best to not be awakened completely from his slumber, something that proved to be quite the task with a whining Spaniard standing next to your bed.

"It's time to rise and shine!" the idiot exclaimed loudly, and Lovino heard his footsteps move away. He let out a sigh in relief, which shortly after changed into a groan of pure agony as he heard the curtains being parted, allowing the soft morning sun to lighten the room.

That very annoying voice – with that totally annoying and unpleasant accent, yes, mind his words – decided to whine his name again, and this time Lovino gave in. He pushed the sheets off him and pushed himself up, glaring at Antonio through sleepy eyes.

"What the hell do y-" Lovino temporarily lost the ability to speak when he was met with the astoundingly beaut- _astoundingly ugly _sight in front of him.

Antonio's smile looked as stupid as it always looked, and the sun illuminated his totally not handsome form, casting a golden glow on his tanned skin and creating a golden aura around him that totally made him look even more ugly than he normally did, and oh damn, the fact that the bastard was not wearing a fucking shirt was not helping matters either.

Great way to wake up at the first day!

Not.

…Don't look at him like that!

He was being serious!

Dammit!

"Are you feeling ok, Lovi? You're looking a bit pale…" Antonio asked worriedly, making his way over to Lovino and placing his hand on the frozen Italian's forehead without warning, causing the other to flinch and startle awake.

"Keep your hands off me you fucking idiot!" he yelled, grabbing his pillow to use as weapon and pushing the soft thing right in Antonio's face. His own face started to feel hot and his cheeks seemed to radiate heat as his body caught up with the events and more importantly, his own very embarrassing, traitorous and odd thoughts.

Antonio just laughed, pushing the pillow away. He laughed even louder when he caught sight of Lovino's very red head and after a by the receiver unappreciated comment over the similarity between a tomato and said person's cheeks was made, the Spaniard doubled over in pain.

Lovino growled loudly, a triumphant smirk on his face as this time his knee had reached and overpowered its victim. Aka Antonio's stomach.

* * *

**Ahaha, I think I'm starting to get carried away a little. But no worries, the drama will come. Soon. **

**Thanks for the people who spent two seconds of their life replying to this worthless story. It means a lot to me, really. **


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